The Solution
by Hannieh
Summary: "If I wasn't everything that you think I am, everything that I think I am, would you still want to help me?" Sherlock questions her, his words echoing, swimming through her head as she carefully contemplates them. (A two shot)
1. Chapter 1

"If I wasn't everything that you think I am, everything that I think I am, would you still want to help me?" Sherlock questions her, his words echoing, swimming through her head as she carefully contemplates them.

"What do you need?" Molly asks moments later, her voice firm and her gaze focussed.

"You."

"What do you want me to do? How can I help?" Molly asks him again, still no sign of the usually fidgety pathologist to be found. "Explain me, slowly." She tries to coax it out calmly, nudging him over to one of the lab stools, gesturing at him to sit down.

"Tomorrow-" Sherlock's breath hitches, his words stuck in his throat before they tumble of his lips. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow we're going to solve the final problem- the final problem with Moriarty." He blurts out as he lets himself get lead onto the stool, nervously trying to get some non-existing lint of his trousers.

"I know, Sherlock. I know you need my help but how can I help you?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do. You always do, Sherlock. You always know everything- you know so much it's aggravating most of the time. Really, the answer has to be somewhere in that massive brain of yours." Molly replies, still as calm as before, trying to manage a smile as her eyes lock on the detective's nervous hands, placing her own on top of his to still them.

"You're going to find a solution to this, Sherlock. I'm sure of it- you always do and if you can't find one on your own then I'll be here to help you, okay?" Molly encourages him again, her voice soft.

Another few seconds of trying to still Sherlock's hands and a tense silence pass between them before the detective finally speaks again.

"Thank you, Molly. You're right. I- we will find a solution to this. I need to think now, I need to go to my-"

"Your mind palace. John told me about it, let me know when you're ready to talk again. Okay?" Molly nods her head before letting out a deep sigh, squeezing the Sherlock's hands before letting go.

"I'll be at my desk if you need me."


	2. Chapter 2

Molly took a deep breath, carefully wiping the blood off the still unconscious detective's face, threading her fingers through his hair, trying to get through the bits where his curls had clotted together.

Molly took a deep breath, carefully wiping the blood off the still unconscious detective's face, threading her fingers through his hair, trying to get through the bits where his curls had clotted together.

She continued her attempt at combing Sherlock's hair as she contemplated what had happened the past 24 hours.

—

After Sherlock had asked for her help and after she had agreed on helping him the detective had retreated himself into his mind palace, trying to come up with a solution for either his but hopefully Moriarty's 'final problem'.

"Molly." He finally broke the silence after what seemed like hours, focussing his gaze on the pathologist. "Molly, I think I found a solution but I need you to look a closer look at it, to make sure every little detail is possible. The human body is more your area work after all." Sherlock said before quickly starting to explain his plan.

After Molly had changed a few things about the detective's plan they started to prepare Sherlock's 'suicide', just finishing in time before John came back which was Molly's cue to go. She couldn't go far of course so she and Sherlock had decided she'd hide in an empty hospital room for the time being, trying to get some rest.

—

The pathologist was still gently threading her fingers through Sherlock's hair when she felt something or rather someone stop her from doing so.

"Oh, Sherlock. I thought you'd be out a bit longer, everything okay? I gave you a check up earlier and aside from loads of bruises you should be okay …" She squeaked, surprised Sherlock was already conscious again.

"Molly." Sherlock croaked as he tried to sit up straight, still pressing her hand firmly against his.

"Sherlock, everything okay? I brought some pain medication if you really, really need it, it'd clash with your –ehm, previous treatment but you had quite the fall and it wouldn't be life threatening if you mixed the two but-" Molly rambled on until Sherlock cut her off mid-sentence by intertwining his fingers with hers, lowering their hands in a more comfortable position before pressing his face into her shoulder.

"I'm okay, Molly. Thank you." He mumbled softly, his voice still hoarse and mostly muffled by the shirt of Molly's cardigan.


End file.
